Whispers of the Past
by bbgirl17555
Summary: Spike heads to Cleveland to help Buffy in her darkest hours. (Spike & Buffy) Post 'Chosen' (WIP Chapter Seven Added 9-01-04)
1. Prolouge

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Title: Whispers of the Past  
**Author:** Becca aka Barbie Girl  
**Rating:** PG- 13  
**Character\Pairing:** Buffy\Spike, Willow\Kennedy Other Characters: Faith, Dawn, Xander  
**Spoilers:** BTVS~ Chosen ATS~ Life of the Party  
**Timeline:** Post Chosen  
**Disclaimer:**Joss is evil... And he doesn't share well. So I am stealing them for the time being... Don't worry. He will get them back.  
**Summary:** Spike heads to Cleveland to help the Slayer in her darkest hours.   
**Feedback:** My drug of choice! Help out an addict please! So send some to Dreamer17555@aol.com or just review  
**Author's Note:**Warning: Deals with issues of suicide and other unhappy thoughts in later chapters. There is so comedy to break up the darkness (think like the show).   
To read the NC-17 version hop on over to my site at   
And many props to my beta Morganna, who is simple amazing.

Whispers of the Past

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Prologue

Shrieks filled the old building, flakes of paint shaking from the peeling walls, as a roach scuttled across the floor only to be crushed under a heavy booted foot. She nodded in thanks, red hair falling for a moment in front of her tear stained face before she pushed it back. She clutched the phone to her ear, trying to block out the horrible sound that shook her to her very core, the sound of pain, the sound of lost souls, the sound of hell that echoed through the old building. More than anything she wanted to be rid of that sound, to be deaf even. Maybe that was the problem, maybe they had been deaf to her pain too long, let her slip too far.

She placed her palm flush against her other ear, attempting to block out her best friend's hollow screams. The phone rang again, impatience flooding her veins, she couldn't do this amidst this noise, this hollow endless sound; she had to escape it. She just had too. Willow walked over to the heavy door, sending a sympathetic glance back to Faith, who was scraping roach guts off of her favorite boots. Faith nodded at her in understanding as Willow pushed open one of the heavy aluminum doors and strolled out of the building. _Come on!_ She thought, looking up and down the cracked sidewalk, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. _Just pick up the phone already! _

Halfway across the country Spike's head felt as though it were going to explode. "Aren't you gonna get that?" He shot a daggered glare at his blonde foe from across the plush office.

She rolled her eyes, finishing the pink-coated brush stroke across her long nails. "Hey, you're not the boss of me!" She pouted. "And besides, I'm on a break." She informed him, blowing on her damp nails. The phone continued its shrill persistent ringing on the large black desk that was currently littered with old issues of _Vogue_, and _Rolling Stone_, nail polish remover, nail file and used cotton balls. Before she could start her second coat of Barbie Sunset, her head was yanked roughly back as Spike grabbed a handful of her blonde hair, causing her to yelp in pain and spill the nail polish over her new blouse. "Owww!" She cried out. She batted at him with her freshly painted hand. "Look what you made me do, you big idiot!"

But Spike didn't release his grip on her bleached mane; a week trapped in an office day after day with her could put anyone over the edge. "Harm," He growled low and dangerously in her ear. "Pick up the damn phone!" He let go of her head, pushing it forward as it slammed against the desk.

Harmony whimpered, rubbing her forehead with her palm, trying to keep from inflicting any more damage on her nails. "I'm telling Angel!" She pouted as she reached for the black phone, almost knocking over the bottle of nail polish remover.

"You do that." Spike dug in his pants pocket, pulling out a pack of smokes, pressing one firmly between his lips, his Zippo's flame rising to light the stick of nicotine. He knew Angel didn't approve of his smoking, even less when Spike did it in his office, but to hell with em'. He was the one stuck here with the bookworm and his own life sized Barbie doll complete with air between the ears, while he and Gunn went traipsing off to Fiji to kill some demon cult. If he didn't want his furniture smelling of smoke than he shouldn't have left Spike at home with the girls. _His own bloody fault_, Spike mused as Harmony finally picked up the receiver.

Spike lowered himself into Angel's favorite black leather chair, the one Angel had warned him expressively was off limits. He was just about to reach for an issue of _Rolling Stone_ when he caught Harmony's recognizing tone. "Oh, it's you." She sighed, messing with her now stained top. "No, he's not here. God! What am I, his beeper?" Spike had to smile as he listened to the part of the conversation he could hear. "Keeper. Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "I told you, he's not here." Pause. "I dunno, some demon tropical thingie." Another pause. "I am only his secretary!" Harmony protested. "It's not my job to know where he is, or how to reach him, or when he'll get back! " There was yet another long pause in which Spike could make out the mumbling clucking noises over the other end. He almost felt bad for the caller... almost. He was evil after all, big bad and all that, and it was a rare treat to watch Harmony torture someone, other than himself that is. "Here." The blonde vampire trusted the black phone into Spike's grasp. "She wants to talk to someone else."

An annoyed scowl crossed Spike's face, as he squished out the cigarette on Angel's new desk. He had no urge to help these wankers. That was Angel's bit. He was only in this game for one reason and one reason only. "Hullo?" He brought the phone to his ear.

"Spike?" Came a familiar voice from the other end.

"Red?" Spike's eyes grew wide; he actually missed the witch. He missed them all, though he would rather stake himself than admit it. In fact he had been constantly questioning himself as to why he agreed to play nursemaid to a bunch of wankers, and work with the poof when he could be basking in the cloudy winters of Cleveland with Willow and the rest of the gang. Actually, he knew the reason, a certain smart-ass blonde slayer, one who would never love him as much as he loved her. "How you doin-" He stopped abruptly, mind traveling down the possible paths for Willow's call. "Wait, don't tell me this call is to warn me someone thinks we're betrothed, no _Wind Beneath My_ bloody _Wings_?"

"Huh?" Willow was sure she missed a step somewhere. 

Spike chuckled low in his throat; he could almost see Willow's face scrunched up in confusion, her eyebrows arching high. "No magic mumbo jumbo I should be worried about? No ending of the world? Random engagements?"

"Hey!" Willow cried in offense. "Is anyone ever gonna let me live that down? I mean sure, there have been like one or two-"

"One or two?" Spike interrupted, teasing her.

"Okay." Willow conceded. "So maybe there have been a few instances where things didn't go as planned! But there have been lots of times that things have worked out great! And- and to hear you talk you would think all my spells always go 'Ka-blew-ie!'" Willow paused when she heard Spike laughing on the other end. Out on the sidewalk, away from the noise, from everything but the chilling wind she let the horrors that were happening inside fall away. "And yes, there has been the occasional 'poofage' but that was before and now I'm like Super Wicca Girl."

Spike shook his head. "Be needin' a cape then, luv." Willow grumbled and Spike could almost sense she was trying to think of the best way to drive something sharp and pointy at him regardless of the miles between them, so he switched gears. "So...you lookin' for Angel?" He shifted uncomfortably in the Italian leather chair.

That brought Willow crashing back down to reality. She glanced guiltily at the door, she should not be wasting time, not when Buffy... She couldn't even bare to finish that thought. Willow, Super Wicca Girl she was, hadn't been able to do a thing for her best friend; in fact she was afraid she might have made it worse. "Yeah. Do you know how I can reach him?"

"No, Red. I don't. Left me here all alone with the girls." Spike answered truthfully, sitting up straighter at the seriousness of her tone and the small sigh she admitted at his reply. "Is somethin' wrong?" Fear coursed through his non-beating heart, Nibblet, Buffy, if anything ever happened to either of them he didn't know what he would do. Miles apart and to him they were his family, his purpose in his undead life, without them this would be pointless.

Across the country, a serious internal war raged within Willow, conflicts of the heart colliding against logic of the brain. She hadn't been so trusting of Spike when he came back to Sunnydale, all souled up, but she liked to think that was because of the First, and the control it had had on him. She had felt awful when he "died", not taking it nearly as hard as Buffy, Dawn or even Andrew, but she still felt his loss, the gapping whole that both Spike and Anya had left in the group. And then he was back, just like that. She was never really clear on how, or why he came back but his return was both unsettling and joyous. A part of her felt like telling him, just to make up for that evil little voice in the back of her head, and the part of her that knew Spike, that trusted Spike, wanted to keep it from him. No one should have to see someone they love go through this. _Then why are you trying to find Angel?_ Her mind fired back. _Shouldn't he be spared the sight too? _If she was perfectly honest with herself she would admit it was because she was running out of options, they couldn't reach Buffy anymore, she wasn't altogether sure anyone could.

"Witch?" Spike prompted; the silence on the other end deafening. Spike had always loved silence, what with Dru's rantings all bloody day and night, silence became something to be cherished, worshipped even. Then one night changed everything, the night after Buffy jumped to save Dawn, the silence was horrible, filling his mind like a muffled blanket, ears aching to hear her heart beat. Now he understood why so many humans lived for noise, for sound. Because silence, to so many, was death. 

The soft-pleading tone in which Spike had pulled Willow's mind back from its meanderings, had made her decision, it was like a bolt of lightening, and she just knew what she should do. She heard that unspoken question, knew what he didn't want to hear, what she didn't want to tell him. So she took a deep breath and did the only thing she could; she kept her mouth shut. "No, no." She shook her head, plastering a look of enthusiasm on her face as if he could see her through the phone line. "Everything's just fine and dandy. Yep," She overcompensated as she always did. "Everything is fine and dandy, and we're all eating candy. And wow, that rhymes! Dandy candy." She repeated, giggling nervously; secret keeping, not one of Willow's best accomplishments. 

Spike sighed, knowing damn well what she was up to. "Pet, I know what's going on." Willow gasped unintentionally, cold Cleveland air filling her lungs with a sharp stab. "Don't worry, not gonna tell your little Scooby gang, but Red, you need to lay off the caffeine. Don't need you all twitchy when you're doing that mumbo jumbo. Not exactly conducive for spell castin'."

Willow exhaled, not even realizing she had been holding her breath, she had been so close. "Yep, me caffeine, non-mixy. Bad, bad Willow! I have to go... and do penance and stuff. You know, for the caffeine, and the caffeine. And I have to go." She wanted off the phone as quick as possible, Spike was far too good at telling when something was up, and he didn't need to be here for this. He didn't deserve that kind of hurt, the kind of anger that builds, sparked by feelings of uselessness, and fed by the horror in Buffy's eyes. But she had called for a reason, Angel still might be able to help. "But ya know, if you hear from Angel, can you please tell him I called?"

"Sure, Pet. I'll make sure to give Nancy Boy the message." He was going to ask if there was anything he could do to help but a screaming chit in the background made him halt.

Amber, a fourteen-year-old slayer they had been training, swung the door open and nearly toppled over Willow. Her normally pale face was flushed red to match her curls that were pulled back into a high ponytail, her green eyes wild and frightened. "Willow!" She screeched, tears cascading down her cheeks, fear flooding from every pore on her body. "Call an ambulance! You need to call an ambulance!"

"What?" Willow grabbed the frantic girl's arm with one hand, her other, with the phone clenched in it, falling to her side.

"Knife!" The girl panted. "Blood... Oh God... So much blood... It's everywhere..." She was beginning to hyperventilate, ears flaming pink, fingers digging into Willow's arm for support.

"Calm down." Willow commanded, her own terror shining from her large orbs. "Breathe. What happened?"

Amber seemed to calm somewhat, breaths still coming in ragged pants, but her mind seemed clearer, the initial panic subsiding. "Buffy. She has a knife. She cut her arm. She's bleeding really badly. It's everywhere. And she's not making any sense again." Her breath hitched, a few double pants as she struggled to gain control over her body. Slayers shouldn't act like this, Buffy had always told her to keep a cool head.

"Where's the knife?!" Willow almost shook the poor child. There had been one close call before in which Buffy had cut deeply and repeatedly into her legs, the doctors had said it was a miracle she didn't suffer any permanent damage to her tendons, she had all but sliced through them. The three days Buffy was trapped in observation were the hardest ones Willow ever remembered, with the exception of the day Tara died. Buffy looked so hollow, so empty, staring at nothing. Not like Buffy at all, but some stranger, some weak child. Not her best friend, Buffy was always strong, Buffy had survived death twice, she had beaten the First, she wasn't weak. She was their leader. But then she seemed to do better, for awhile it was fine, and then came the crying at night, rants at the wall, conversations with no one, and then the screaming fits. Some days she was fine, she was Buffy, and other days... well, it was hard to tell who that girl was.

Amber winced at the pressure on her arm. Willow looked possessed, mad even. "Faith is trying to get it from her." She croaked.

Willow released her Vulcan death grip on the poor girl, dropping the cell phone in the process as it crashed on the cement, and dashed inside, hands held out as her mind sifted through spells of protection and healing. Amber began to sob furiously, convinced she wasn't strong enough to be a slayer, convinced her mentor was dying. She tried to think of what Buffy would do in this situation, she was always so calm in battle, so powerful, so strong. What would Buffy do? She sure as hell wouldn't sit by and watch, she would help, do something, anything. Amber noticed the small cell phone that Willow had dropped and retrieved it, intent on calling 911 when she heard a voice on the other end. "HELLO?!" It shouted at her. "ANYONE THERE?!"

"He-hello?" Amber brought the phone to her ear.

"What happened?" The petulant voice on the other end demanded.

"I-I can't talk right now." Amber said quickly. "Willow will have to call you back." And with that she hung up and dialed 911.

In an office twenty stories up, Harmony sulked. No one ever told her anything! Not to mention Spike had just run through the doors like a bat out of hell and didn't even bother to say he was sorry for her shirt! God, unlife sucked!

TBC


	2. Chapter One

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Chapter One  
  
  
"Oww!" Faith cried, wrenching her leg free from the small hands that were holding it. "Watch it! That stings!"  
  
"Baby." Replied Dawn with a small smirk as she twisted the cap back on the antiseptic and stored it safely in the first aid kit. "Ya know, for all that slayer healing, I think you are over reacting to a little cut." She glanced back down at the sliced open flesh of Faith's right calf. "It's hardly more than a scratch."  
  
"A scratch?" Faith snorted, examining the deep stab wound. "Damn, B," She muttered to herself. "Always with the stabbing." Dawn looked at her curiously. Faith leaned against the old beige sofa that was littered with cigarette burns and smelled of sweat, rot and smoke. "Listen, Miss Muffet, if it wasn't for the healing shit I would have ended up in the back of that ambulance tonight."   
  
Amber shifted uncomfortably. Faith, the whole group really, had not appreciated her call to 911. It was a family matter. They would handle it. None of them could bear her being alone again. Buffy needed them, maybe now more than ever. When the ambulance had pulled up, cops in tow, all hell had broken loose. Faith had managed to get the knife from Buffy, not without some personal injury, but at least she had it. Then the ambulance siren put Buffy into a state of shock, her rants died, she just froze. Amber was sure if Faith wasn't a good liar, and Willow one talented Wicca, Buffy would be restrained on a bed in some loony bin right now.   
  
Amber wasn't the only one having a hard time dealing. Faith, who had become take-things as-they-come girl, was seriously unnerved. Buffy had gone after Faith; it wasn't just like before, this time, it wasn't random violence directed at herself or others. She had called Faith's name when she descended the stairs, crimson blood flowing down her arm, and dripping off of her fingertips with soft plops onto the smooth cement floor. She had actually chosen Faith. Explained in small rants how Faith wasn't supposed to be here, not while she was still here. One slayer dies the next one is called. It wasn't right. None of this was right.   
  
Faith glanced up at the metal staircase and the small darkened office that they had converted into a make shift bedroom. The silence coming from that room was deafening. Buffy had long since fallen into a sleep of sorts, helped along by a little of Willow's fairy dust. It was unusual, the warehouse being so quiet. The girls were whispering in low tones behind a few sheets that had been set up to divide the space into more livable conditions for a bunch of girls who needed privacy, or as much as they could get with four cots to a sleeping area. The whole scene unnerved Faith, who was already on edge. Part of what Buffy had said made sense, but part of it she couldn't quite grasp, and she didn't know which was wigging her worse.  
  
"I come baring magically delicious snacks!" Xander emerged from the open doorway that lead to a small kitchen, that is to say a microwave, a hot plate, fridge, and the George Foreman grill.   
  
Dawn looked at his plate full of microwaved s'mores. "Wouldn't that be Lucky Charms? I don't think s'mores are really 'magically delicious.' They are more just 'messy delicious'." She reached and grabbed the nearest s'more.   
  
"So you insult the chef and then still eat the food?" Xander asked in shock. "Something is seriously wrong here! Isn't there some rule about that sorta thing? And if there isn't, there should be. A big rule, in a big book, about insulting my cooking."  
  
"He's got a point." Willow followed behind him, a large basin in one hand and several pouches dangling from the other. "Kinda that whole smack the hand that feeds you thing." Her brow furrowed slightly. "Except without him feeding you with his actual hands cuz, ya know, unsanitary."  
  
"Hey!" Xander slammed down the plate of s'mores on the trunk they used as a coffee table. "I will have you know I just washed them!"  
  
Kennedy appeared from behind one of the makeshift rooms, a few large volumes in her arms, which she handed off to Willow, who smiled sweetly in return. "When, last month?" She teased.  
  
"Actually, last week." He amended. "And what is this? Kick the Xander day?" A small puppy dog pout formed on his lips as he plopped down next to Faith on the worn couch.   
  
Faith snapped her fingers as if a light bulb had illuminated her thoughts. "Knew I forgot somethin! We can schedule one next week if that's good for everyone?" She began to playfully run a hand through Xander's hair but he discreetly pulled back. She couldn't blame him; there was a lot of history there, and sorely lacking in the good kind. When Anya died it seemed to take some of the fire out of him, but a small spark still ignited whenever Buffy entered the room. His eyes would light up, his posture improve, it was strikingly obvious that he still harbored feelings for her, ones deeper than friendship, but it was also blatantly ignored by the group. She wondered if they noticed how he had dimmed when Buffy started slipping, or if they just chose not to comment on it. She shook the heavy thoughts off and watched Willow sprinkle herbs into the water filled basin. "That for me?"  
  
Willow nodded, red hair falling in her face as she held up one hand to silence the group. Deep guttural sounds, vaguely resembling Latin poured from her lips as the mixture began to boil, bubbles rising to the surface and popping, until the mixture turned into a green sticky paste. Willow said a quick prayer of thanks to Athena and started stirring the thick green concoction.  
  
"How to make your own ooze." Xander commented, continuously impressed with Willow's abilities. "Now all I have to do is find me a few turtles." Amber raised an eyebrow at him. "Ya know, ooze, teenage mutant ninja turtles, that hot April chick?" It was clear that the 80's icons were either over their head or below their perception. "Damn. I hate being the only guy. Times like this I miss Andrew, he would've gotten it."  
  
The words hung in the air, a dirty forbidden statement. They danced before Xander's eyes, hideous demons taunting him. Number one rule: don't talk of the fallen. It was an unspoken agreement and he had broken it. Bile filled his throat as he fought to push it down. They didn't speak of those warriors past, of lives changed, they never played what if. There was no going back, there was only now, the problems of the past were to be swept under the rug, never to be unearthed again and they made believe that they could ignore it, with painted smiles, and forced laughter. They could be happy as long as they kept everything at a distance, never pulling it in too close, never inspecting the holes in the fabric, and Xander had just ripped one wide open, exposing what they didn't want to see.   
  
The air crackled with tension as Amber shifted her weight from foot to foot. Eyes pleading with him not to disturb her bubble of denial, to not disturb the past, to just let it be. She fought back the tears pooling in her eyes, blinking them away. The past was over and done, she told herself, don't think about it. But what else could she do when Xander cast such a harsh light on it? She and Andrew had become friends fast. Amber was probably closer to him than anyone else; Andrew had treated her just like a little sister. She looked down at her hands, ducking her head as she vainly fought the tears that refused to be squelched. "Oh God," Xander stood, trying to comfort her, but she backed away a tiny step. "Amber, I didn't mean to-"  
  
"No, no." She forced a smile on her face, plastic and artificial. "I'm fine. It's not a big deal, really." She had gotten a bit of a rep for being a crybaby and she didn't need anything adding to it.   
  
Dawn smiled at her sympathetically. "Don't mind Xander. We looked into having his foot surgically removed from his mouth but the doctors said it was hopeless." She reached across Faith to grab another s'more.  
  
"No," Amber shook her head, red curls bouncing. "It's okay really. I'm just kinda tired. I'm gonna go lay down." She started for the sheet drawn rooms, but stopped, craning her head to look at Willow. "You'll tell me if there is anything I can do? I mean to help Buffy- or anyone?"  
  
"We will." Willow promised with a small sad smile. Amber reminded her so much of Tara, she was so sweet and shy, and struggling to belong. Amber returned the smile before disappearing behind the make shift curtain. "Poor thing." Willow murmured.  
  
"Yeah," Xander agreed. "She just keeps getting attached to people who end up dead or..." Willow's stern expression told him if he valued his manhood he would keep from finishing that statement. Lucky for him Dawn provided the perfect distraction as she gobbled up the last s'more. "Hey! I was gonna eat that." Dawn just shrugged and stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
"Not to get all self involved." Faith spoke up from her position between the two bickering children on the worn sofa. "But kinda in pain here." She gestured to her leg and the blood soaked bandage that clung to it.   
  
"Oops." Willow's face fell, green eyes growing large with apology. "Sorry. Too many distractions." She sent a pointed look to both Xander and Dawn who were in the throngs of a glaring contest with one another, clearly pinning the blame on their foe at the opposite end of the couch. Faith didn't say anything as Willow stepped over Dawn's outstretched legs and sat on the trunk across from her, pulling the injured leg into her lap. "This might burn for a moment." She warned as she dug her hands into the thick broccoli green paste. Faith grimaced as she watched Willow lower her hands to her calf, a snide comeback falling along the lines of 'yeah more pain' came bubbling to her lips but she pushed it down. Her relationship with Willow was the most changed since she got sprung. The venomous hatred that had once flowed freely between the two girls had diluted to a mild dislike and a common ground. Slowly the tides of Buffy's situation had pushed the girls closer and for the first time Willow understood that in her own, albeit twisted, way Faith cared for the blonde slayer as much as she did. "Try not to, ya know, kick me." Willow asked of the strong brunette as she slathered the goo on her open wound.  
  
_She's trying to burn my skin off!_ Faith's mind decided as the scorching mixture was worked deeply into her skin by small, impossibly molten hot hands. Her foot jerked but she forced herself to stay still, hands clenched in tight fists around the moth eaten upholstery. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her whole body urging her to fend off this attack, to leap from the fire that was dissolving her skin, dining on her flesh. Her breath hitched in her chest as she let it out through her clenched teeth, a sharp hiss that pulled Dawn and Xander from their childish feud. "Is she okay?" Dawn looked from Faith to Willow with saucer-like eyes. "I don't think she can take whatever it's doing."  
  
Willow said nothing, just continued to rub the green goo into Faith's skin until it began to slowly seep into her flesh and fade. "Umm. Will," Xander spoke up as Faith grunted in pain, her eyes clamped tightly shut, her arms trembling. "I'm thinking this might be a good time for a little breather." Even Kennedy looked at her love with worry and doubt in her dark eyes. But none of them understood. None of them realized that to heal you must first go through the pain. But she did. Willow lifted her gaze to Faith's pain-ridden face. And she knew Faith realized it to.  
  
Faith clenched her jaw as the waves of searing torture cascaded over her. At first she thought something must have gone wrong, either that or the Wicca had decided to work out some unresolved issues without telling her. But when Willow didn't stop she began to piece the puzzle together. Scattered images flashed through her mind, demons of nightmares past, meeting Buffy for the first time, the mayor promising he would never leave her, the man dying at her hand, Buffy plunging a knife into her gut, staring at her body from across the church, the look on Buffy's face as she stood in the middle of the LAPD. Twisted dreams, and haunting memories, pain that shook her very core, and then nothing.   
  
Faith felt a wave of relief wash over her as though she had been doused with rainwater from the heavens. The pain was nothing but a distant memory, blurred and softened as though it had been a hundred years ago and not mere seconds. Her body uncoiled, relaxing as she opened her eyes and was greeted with several worrisome expressions, except from the witch across from her, who wore a trace of a smile upon her lips as she went about cleaning up. "You okay?" Kennedy questioned.  
  
"5 by 5." The once rough slayer replied with a smile. She turned to the red head across from her. "Man, what the hell was that?" It wasn't accusatory; it was more like she had just been given her first drops of alcohol, excited, rebellious, and full of wonder.   
  
"Healing." Willow replied with a smirk. For the first time, Faith noticed the gouge on her leg, or the lack of. The skin had mended, no soreness lingered, no scars, it was as if it had never happened. It was just healed.  
  
Faith wasn't the only one who noticed the seamless results of Willow's spell. "Damn," muttered Xander as he bent to examine Faith's newly perfect appendage before looking pointedly at Willow. "You have a magic cure all and you didn't share?" They knew he was referring to the patch that covered the gapping hole where his eye should have been. His gaze bore through Willow, daring her to deny that there was a chance it might heal him, make him whole. He watched his best friend, waiting for some indication that he was wrong, that the spell only worked on Slayers or legs or only on Thursdays, anything but the possibility it could work for him and she kept from telling him about it. "Willow?" He prompted, the air growing denser around them, separating them from the group, just the two of them like old times, but not like old times, as Willow's gaze fell to the floor. That action spoke more than all the words she could have spoken.  
  
"Oh, I see." Xander whispered quietly, understanding slamming into his gut, knocking the breath from his lungs. "Or actually I guess I don't." He chuckled softly, a harsh bitter laugh, so detached that it caused Willow's eyes to dart up, catching his own stare. "But I suppose you know all about that."  
  
"Xander," Willow faltered slightly under his quiet attack. It was brutal, worse than a million harsh barbs he could have thrown her way, those she could take, but not this. Not this quiet hurt, that she could feel humming from him, as if his very soul had been wounded and was now in shock, shaking, trembling under the blow. She moved to sooth him, but he recoiled from her touch, backing up a pace. "Xander?" She called again, voice breaking, as he shook his head, as if a stranger stood in front of him, instead of his best friend. "Don't look at me like that!" She pleaded; green orbs brimming with unshed tears.  
  
But his resolve didn't soften. This girl in front of him, who he had pulled back from the very edge of evil itself, was no one he knew now, no one he cared to know. "I'm sorry but it's the only way I can right now." And with that he silently, grimly turned away and made his way up the heavy metal staircase into the darkened office Buffy was resting in. He needed a friend right about now, even if all she could do was listen while she slumbered.  
  
Willow turned to the other three girls. "It's not like that. It's more complicated." Tears began to stream down her face as she pleaded her case. "There is pain, and pain, and I didn't want to hurt him."   
  
She sobbed as Kennedy pulled her into a tight embrace, pushing a lock of red hair away, and tucking it behind her lover's ear. "We know."  
  
Dawn came up behind Willow, placing a reassuring hand on her back. "I'm sure if you could have done something to help you would have. We know that." Her head tilted to the soft light filtering from the office. "And I am sure once he has had time to think about it, he'll know it too."  
  
  
******  
  
  
"I'm never gonna be able to move again." Grumbled Lisa, one of the Slayers in training as she rubbed her aching arms with a small groan.  
  
Vi stretched, "Aww that was nothing! You should have seen how tough she was before we got the Slayer powers." Because of the confused looks she added. "When we were preparing to battle the First. It was all like 'maggot this' and 'idiot that', but Buffy did give a rallying speech." She paused to think for a moment. "Well when she wasn't saying how unprepared we all were and how much better she was."  
  
Lisa shook her head as the S.I.T.s made their way to the sheet rooms for a little R&R. "I don't even want to hear that name! I don't get why she's still here anyhow. That girl is completely cracked and every time something like this happens Kennedy gets all drill sergeant on our asses. And I know they are friends but is it my fault the girl's brain has been scrambled!"  
  
"It's really not that simple." Vi explained. "Buffy was the last lone slayer. She didn't start off by having another slayer around to watch her back. She saved my life. She helped unleash our power. She's just…" Vi shrugged. "Having a hard time right now."  
  
"Oh please!" Lisa rolled her eyes as she threw herself down on her cot, speaking to Vi and ignoring her crying roommate. "I mean Faith could have figured it out without her, and I'm not seeing why we have to put up with her rants anyway. I mean, she did her thing, now can we please put her out to pasture or at least send her somewhere where they won't care that her brain is mush? Frankly," She commented with a small smirk as she fluffed her pillow under her head. "We would be better off without her."  
  
Wham! Lisa was thrown off her bed, her head connecting with the concrete with a sharp blow, Amber's body pinning her down. "Don't you dare say that again!" The red head howled as she landed another blow to Lisa's left cheek. "You just shut up!"  
  
Lisa threw her off, aiming a kick at her gut, sending her opponent into a stack of milk crate shelves. "Oh please!" She moved in, bent on landing another kick to Amber who was sprawled across the floor in a mass of tangled blankets and fallen books. "Buffy is nothing but a loser and you know it." She kicked her hacking roommate once in the ribs before she went to land a final blow across her face. Suddenly Lisa's small brunette form flew through the air, crashing into the solid brick wall behind her, knocking her out cold. It all happened so fast she never knew what hit her.  
  
*****  
  
"Talked to Amber." Faith reported as she hopped up on the workbench that served as an island in their makeshift kitchen. "Same ol', same ol'. All about B, again." She snagged a piece of apple from where Xander was slicing them and popped it into her mouth. "It's been like a running theme around these parts."  
  
"Yeah. Big mileage on that one." Willow commented quietly as she worked at peeling the orange in front of her. The group was assembled in the kitchen in a poor attempt at throwing together a fruit salad for the girls as a midnight snack. Dinner had been seriously disrupted, and ended up settling high on the junk food pyramid and not so much with the healthy. Which was the reason the Scoobies were gathered together, well that and to discuss the latest hostile outbreak, this time from their own camp.   
  
"We are gonna have to do something to stop this." Kennedy added gravely as she handed her melon balls off to Dawn, who was dividing all the fruit up into three large bowls.   
  
"Stop what?" Xander looked up from his apples. "I mean a little hand to hand combat never hurt anyone. Think of it as extra training."  
  
"You didn't see Lisa." Willow added wisely. "Somehow I think it hurt her a lot."  
  
"Well I am sure you can mojo her right back up?" There was an edge to Xander's voice, steel in his eyes. "I mean you don't really like her that much so why not help her? I mean who would want to think of helping their friends? Much better to let your friends suffer and waste your powers on an undeserving brat, who is constantly talking smack. Yep, I totally see where you are coming from."   
  
Willow sighed. Since Xander had finally come out of Buffy's room an hour ago he hadn't had much to say to her, which she figured was much worse than him yelling. They always had at least been able to talk but now she wasn't so sure she didn't want the sullen quiet Xander back. "Xander, it's not that simple. There are costs, and stuff that you don't know about."  
  
"Of course there is! Nobody ever told me about them so how could I know? I'm sorry I forgot to pack my crystal ball." He rolled his eyes, throwing the apple slices harshly into one bowl, causing Dawn to squeak as she went to pick them out and evenly divide them. "You're right. I don't know anything. Or at least don't understand anything! Just dumb ol' Xander. So why don't you explain it to me? You're so smart. So fill us in, sage Willow. What the hell is going on here?!"  
  
A voice shot out through the darkness as boots connected with the cold concrete. "Took the words out of my bloody mouth, mate."


	3. Chapter Two

****

Chapter Two  
  
  
Five heads shot up; mouths slightly agape as Spike strolled across the concrete floor, his boots smacking loudly against the hard surface. He stopped in front of Willow, speaking directly to her, ignoring the looks from the others. "So what is it then? Gonna tell me what that little phone call was really about?" He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, the cool demeanor beginning to slip as he witnessed the spark of worry flash in the witch's green eyes.

"Hey if it isn't my favorite Grateful Dead!" Faith threw a Cheshire grin his way as she leaned over Dawn who was staring speechlessly and stole a slice of orange from one of the bowls. "I was wondering when you were gonna pop by. I've been telling Willow for weeks that we needed reinforcements. I was expecting tall, dark, and brooding but I'll take blonde, dead, and sexy." She hopped back up on the makeshift island and tossed the piece of fruit into her mouth.

Xander's spine straightened, anger blazing across his features, and distrust engrained in his stance. He flung down the knife he had been using swiftly and with deadly accuracy causing the long handle to stand straight up, the point buried deep in the wood. Faith whistled quietly, obviously impressed but Xander didn't even hear her. His gaze ran over Spike sizing him up before turning to his best friend. "You invited him?" The words were drenched is loathing. "You don't think she's been through enough because of him? You wanna see just how far you can push her before she snaps completely? Is that the plan here?"

Willow paled at the accusation, her past mistakes where Buffy was concerned still fresh in her mind. She silently sat on a nearby stool, her legs no longer capable of holding her. Her eyes wide and childlike as if a fairy tale had just been smashed. She opened her mouth to defend herself but the words would not come. 

Kennedy noticing the quiet hurt on her lover's face quickly stepped in. "Back off, Xander! I'm sure Willow has her reasons! And it's not like you're doing anything to help Buffy." Xander withdrew as though he had been slapped, his heart stinging with hurt at the icy words flung at him. Willow touched Kennedy's hand, a simple connection, telling her to be careful. She softened a bit, her voice becoming warmer. "I didn't mean that. I know you've tried. We've all tried but it's not enough. Maybe Spike can reach her. Willow has her reasons for inviting him."

"That would be true." The red head nodded solemnly. "If I had invited him." Willow looked to Spike, eyes locking, both realizing secrets that were about to spill, the promises that had finally been shattered. "Except for the fact that I didn't. Invite him, that is."

Kennedy raised her eyebrows, sending a questioning glance to her girlfriend. "But if you didn't invite him who did?"

"Yeah." Xander stepped up, his protectiveness for Buffy fueling him. "How did you get here anyway? I thought you were all Bill Cosby and stuck in LA?"

"Yeah." Faith piped up, brow furrowed. "How did you get here anyway? Not that I'm not happy to see a fellow reform student but-" She stopped suddenly, cocking her head to look at Xander. "Bill Cosby?" She questioned sure she had missed a step somewhere.

She was obviously not the only one who had missed the connection. "Umm…" Kennedy scratched the back of her neck before a thought slammed into her head. "Jell-O! Didn't he do all those commercials for Jell-0? Xander is saying that Spike is all soft like Jell-O since he is a ghost and therefore cannot work out..." She flayed helplessly before caving. "Pass."

Faith shrugged. "I got nothing."

Willow picked up the gauntlet. "All I can come up with is that cartoon he did."

"I remember that." Faith turned to Spike, eyes sparkling dangerously. "Fat Albert right?"

"Oi!" Offense shown in Spike's face, his ego taking a blow. "Fat?! Jell-O?! You birds must have your wires crossed! Unless…" He opened his mouth, running his tongue over his human canines as he began to circle Xander slowly. "Unless that's what the boy is trying to say."

With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes Xander ignored Spike's unspoken threat and instead focused on his own wounded pride. "Bill Cosby! Ghost Dad! Pop culture movie of the late eighties!"

"Still drawing a big ol' blank." Willow replied with a small sad smile.

"Make mine a question mark." Kennedy bit in.

"You girls really need to brush up on your eighties trivia." Xander sulked, arms crossing over his chest. "In the movie he dies but he can't stray to far from the kids. Sorta like how Casper here was leashed to LA." He drew the comparison for them.

"Leashed?" Spike howled in protest. "Like a bloody dog?" He scoffed. "Like you're really one to talk. I mean you've been the Slayer's lackey for how many years now? Begging for scraps from her. Leashed, my arse!"

"Oh. Not your best joke." Willow added helpfully. 

"Ya know what, Harris? I'm bloody sick of all this name calling crap. You want a fight? I'll give you a fight." Spike continued to rant to himself as he took a step closer to his foe, invading his personal space.

But the invasive front seemed to go unnoticed by Xander, who instead threw a sharp glance the witch. "I think I got that when everyone missed the punch line." He shot back, fingers in a steeple position at his lips, his whole body seeming to radiate anger and mistrust.

Willow had seen that move before. In another lifetime she had memorized every detail about Alexander Harris in a girlish fantasy. She knew it was something he did to try to calm himself, to keep his temper under wraps. _A little late for that_, she thought bitterly. "I wasn't trying to-"

"Of course you weren't, Will." Sarcasm dripped from his lips like honey. "You don't ever try to do anything. Or wait I'm sorry, it's just me you never tried to help."

"Hey." Faith hopped down from her perch on the workbench. So far she had felt this wasn't her fight and she should keep a low profile but enough was enough. "Hold off there, Xand! Did you even give the girl a chance to explain in between all those pity parties you've been throwing yourself?"

"Oh I'm sorry!" Xander threw his large hands up in the air, barely missing Spike. "Was I singing your song? 'Look at me. I'm Faith'." He mocked in a whiny voice. " 'Buffy ruined my life! It was all 5 by 5 till she came along.' Please! Get over it." His raised voice cause a few curious SIT's to peek around the open doorway.

Faith turned her head, finger twirling in the belt loop of her dark denim jeans. She didn't like to get involved and this was the reason, it always came back to her in the end. It was better to stay detached, stay away, to tuck yourself safely behind that wall. But over the past months the Scoobies and the girls had slowly eroded away her once hardened shell, with understanding and acceptance they filed away at it till nothing was left. So words that normally would have rolled back struck a chord, a cold violent chime ringing through the group. If it hadn't been for the wide-eyed young girls standing at the doorway Xander would have been in a heap on the floor, knocked out cold. That was what Faith knew; someone hurts you, you hurt them back before they do it again. She started to stomp out of the room, pausing once she reached the doorway. With one last withering look back at Xander she said. "Ya might want to be careful, ya never know when people will just stop taking your crap." She cocked her head, telling the SIT's to scram and smiled sadly at Spike. "Glad to have ya back."

"Well that was interesting." Spike drawled. "I thought she would have at least gotten in one good punch. Oh well." He shrugged. Guess I'll have to do it for her."

Xander rolled his head to finally face Spike. "Oh would you please shut up? In case you forgot you're a ghost. Whatcha gonna do? Yell 'Boo' real loud?"

"Umm…Xander?" Willow rose from her seat and pulled at his flannel shirttails. "There is something I forgot to tell you. Do you think we can go in the other room?"

He brushed her off. "Hold on, Will. Casper here was just gonna explain how he intends to kick my ass. Wasn't that right, Blondie?"

"Xander?" Willow pleaded again, urging him to back down.

"He's alive." The words came quietly from Dawn, causing the whole room to still. She had not said a word since Spike made his entrance and no one dared speak over her. "OhmyGod. You're alive!" She ran across the floor, throwing herself into his strong arms, nearly knocking him to the ground. "You're alive, you're alive.' She repeated between sobs. Spike returned the heartfelt embrace, hugging her close and lifting her a few inches from the ground. Tears prickled against his cool skin as Dawn's willpower fell away, leaving only a seventeen-year-old girl who had lost too many people in her short life and was worried about losing her sister. She could lie down her burdens; allow the cracks in her armor to show. Spike was here. He would take over the weary loads. He would ease them from her shoulders. He would make everything better. He would make _her _better.

Kennedy and Xander silently digested this piece of information, their mouths slightly agape at the shock, eyes glued to the scene in front of them. If they had not been watching so intently they might have noticed Willow's unfazed reaction. For Willow wasn't shocked. No, she wasn't shocked at all, and as she looked at Dawn sobbing in Spike's arms, a line of worry drew itself on her face.

"I'm here, lil bit." Spike soothed the crying brunette. "That's right. Let it all out. Daddy's here."

"He's touching her?" Xander stood bewildered, searching from recognition of what his eyes were telling him. "He's touching her! He's a ghost and he's touching her!" His gaze roamed between Kennedy, Willow, and the not so ghost. "He's touching her."

"You really are a clot, aren't you?" Spike spoke over Dawn's head, not breaking the connection.

"A baby horse?" Xander questioned, mind completely jumbled.

"That's a colt." Willow answered quietly.

Xander spun to face Willow. "But he's touching her!" He protested once again, his mind stuck on that single track. Over and over it replayed in his head. _Spike's a ghost. But he's touching Dawn. But he can't Spike's a ghost._

Willow's green eyes flashed with worry as she glanced over at Spike. "You really are thick." Spike sighed as Dawn finally relinquished her hold on him, pulling back and wiping at her tears. "Of course I can touch her, you pillock. I'm not a bloody haunt."

"How? When? How?" Xander scrambled for answers. 

"It's really you?" Dawn stood back a step, gazing at him. 

"Yeah, luv. It's me."

"And you're alive?" She added hopefully.

"Haven't been alive in a long time." He smiled, a bit of sadness shining from his eyes. "Still got that pesky sun allergy or I would have been here sooner.'' His glance caught Willow's who averted her eyes.

"Sooner?" Dawn raised an eyebrow. "How did you know Buffy would-" Off a look from Xander she redirected the question. "I mean how did you know to come."

"I got a ring." His gaze caught Willow's, who again averted her eyes to the concrete floor. "Heard a bit of ruckus, thought I'd come by and check it out."

"Umm…Excuse me," Kennedy raised her hand, as if in class waiting to be called. "But how long have you been undead?" Spike sent her a pointed look at her mistake. "I mean how long have you been touchable? Why didn't you just come here right away? Why wait for a ring?"

"Funny thing." Spike stalled. "I mean not funny but interestin'. The thing is-"

Dawn's face fell, eyes darkening under the crushing blow. He didn't even tell her. If he hadn't gotten that phone call she never would have known. He would have never told her. "You didn't tell us? You didn't even call to let Buffy or me know?"

"Oi! It's not like that, lil bit." He tried to plead his case but Dawn would have none of it, in her easily offended teen mind the jury had already decided guilty and was now pondering proper punishment.

"Just save it." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and with a toss of her head flipped her brunette strands back. 'I mean how could you do that to me? To Buffy? Don't you remember how upset she was when she saw you? When both you and Angel had decided to keep your ghost thing a secret? Why would you do that again to me? I mean, us." She kept her head held high even though tears threatened to spill, her injured heart bleeding out its sorrow through her puppy dog orbs. She tried to focus on the anger, on the blazing fire within. She worked her thoughts onto the path of her poor sister's feelings, fighting for detachment. He obviously didn't care about her; if he had he would have at least told her. Well then she didn't care about him.

Gathering her wits, Willow inhaled, allowing the breath to calm her body. "Dawnie, it's not his fault. I asked him to stay away."

"Away? Why?" Dawn spun to face her, eyes large with unspoken questions.

"I-I." Willow stammered as three piercing stares from those nearest and dearest to her bore through her body. "I just didn't want to make her worse. And there is some stuff she doesn't know about." Her gaze ticked to Spike, who shoved his hands deep within his pockets as if a boy about to be scolded. "Some big stuff that both Angel and I thought it was best to keep from her."

"Ohhhh!" Xander spoke up. "So_ you_ three just decided to keep this from her? Cuz that has worked so well in the past. I mean I can't wait to see how she reacts to this. 'Oh Buffy your crazy ex would be rapist is here and he's no longer a ghost! By the way did we mention that both your ex honey and your best friend knew and didn't bother to tell you.' Yeah." He rolled his sierra eyes. "I'm sure that will go over real well. Maybe this time she'll just try to hang herself instead."

"Xander." Dawn cried out, tears cascading down her cheeks at the mention of how far Buffy had fallen. While anger blazed within her at being kept in the dark she sent her once crush a devastating look and one simple command. "Don't."

He faced her, apology evident. "I'm sorry, Dawnie. I really am. But I'm not going to sit around why these two railroad everyone. I'm not gonna risk Buffy doing something stupid because she feels betrayed." 

"Buffy?" Spike's ears caught the words as he fit them together like a jigsaw puzzle. Buffy. The Call. Something Stupid. "Is she alright?"

"She will be without you around."

"Where-where is she? I need to see her." He kept his hands in his pockets, fists clenching in worry at the leather as he looked out the open doorway.

Xander held out a hand to stop him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Are you completely daft?!" He yelled. "To find Buffy where else?"

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged." Spike bit back.

"_Diffloare_! " With that the two men were blown apart, slamming into opposite walls with a loud thud. "Sorry." The red head added before spots began to dance before her and her legs gave way. Kennedy moved with lightening speed to catch her lover before she hit the ground.

"Hey you okay?" She focused on the witch's sallow complexion as she helped her sit on one of the stools.

"Yeah." Willow peered out of tired eyes. "Just magicked myself out."

"Maybe you should lie down and get some rest."

"No!" Kennedy jumped back at this sudden exclamation to her suggestion before realizing Willow wasn't speaking to her. Both Spike and Xander were edging their way towards the door. They halted at her word.

"I'm going to see her." Spike insisted, eyes flashing dangerously.

"No, you're not." Xander argued.

"Xander?" Willow thrust her tired but powerful glare at him. "Shut up."

Spike smiled at that, large grin growing across his face. "Havin' a bit of a row with your mates? Way to go, Harris." He smirked. "Well if you'll excuse me I have a girl to go see."

"No, you're not." Willow replied with a forceful tone, though she was weak they both knew who had the power here.

He stopped and looked at her. "Red, don't make me hurt you."

"Don't make me hurt _you_." She countered wearily. 

Dawn looked over the group anxiously. There could be a real problem if Spike and Willow went head to head, throw Kennedy and Xander into the mix and you have a big batch of uglies. But Spike did not move to attack. "You can't mean to keep me from her?" His blue eyes rang with chimes of sadness and longing.

"No, you can see her." Spike let out an audible sigh of relief. "But not yet. There are some things you don't know. Some important stuff about Buffy. First you and I will have a talk, and only then can you go see her."

"Will." Xander begged. He had lost so much to darkness and battles. He lost his eye, the love of his life, he even came close to losing his best friend, and he wasn't about to let Buffy slip through his fingers. Gone were the days where he waited for her to rescue him. He no longer played the damsel. He'd tossed off the costume of youth and insecurity. He no longer feared what went bump in the night. He had seen fear, he had seen into Buffy's hollow eyes and in Willow's dark soul. He had seen fear and had nothing to fear but losing them. Buffy needed a hero and it was his turn.

"I know." Her heart softened at his soft-spoken plea. "I'll make it okay, Xand. I promise. Just trust me." He had much to not trust her about at the moment, withholding the spell, not telling him about Spike, but he nodded. Even though he silently cursed his too soft heart. Willow was his best friend and he would follow her on the path to hell if she told him to but he wouldn't take Buffy with him. "Why- why don't you go sit with her? Maybe read her a book?"

"Or comics? Whatever is lying around..." He grinned lopsidedly but Willow noticed it didn't reach his eyes as he trudged out the door and up the steps.

"Kennedy?" Willow prompted once Xander had left.

"Filling in Faith and helping with the girls." She replied with a sigh. "I'm on it."

"Spike? Why don't you follow me." She started for the door before remembering Dawn was still standing there. "Umm... could you maybe make Spike a bed and clean up in here?"

"Sure." She nodded as Spike followed Willow like an obedient puppy. "Joy." She muttered to herself. "I get the clean up." She started to wash off the knives and cutting boards when something caught her eye. Finally she just couldn't take it, she sat down on a stool at the workbench and sobbed. She sobbed until she was spent, bitter tears only capable in the very young. The apples were already turning brown.


	4. Chapter Three

****

Chapter Three

"This isn't good is it?" Kennedy questioned Faith once she had filled her in on the soap opera drama she had missed by her early exit.

"Honestly?" Faith asked as she sat sprawled out on her cot. Kennedy nodded and she shrugged. "I don't know, man. I mean for B? Possibly. With Xand? I'm thinking something's gotta give with that boy. He's wound a little too tight these days, he's just gonna snap if he doesn't loosen up. For Spike? I might've at least filled him in on things if I were Willow before he hopped a 747."

"But she didn't know he was gonna just show up." Kennedy insisted, loyalty for her girlfriend running through her veins. All it had taken was a little implication, that if the girls were still so awake that she could work in a little more practice, to get the SIT's to scurry off to their makeshift rooms. The warehouse was humming quietly with low whispers in the dark giving Kennedy a chance to let Faith in on a few details she had skipped out on, not to mention share some of her own fears. She could never question Willow about any of this, she was too close, too embedded heart and soul but Faith? Faith was in the thick of it, no doubt about that, but she didn't seem to take any personal stance about Spike's return to the fold.

"I guess you're right." She stretched her long limbs over her head in a move that was half stripper, half cat and all Faith. "I guess it doesn't matter when he hears it," She sighed, laying her head back on her folded arm. "He still isn't going to like it."

*****

"So then after we found out about the call of Detatarius we had a way to locate the new slayers. I mean it's not an easy spell, we had to go see the coven and Xander had pretty much insulted them by going 'What's up wicked witches in the monkey monk robes,' that took some time to sooth over but once they meet Buffy it was like 'Hello Elvis has just entered the building'."

"Red? Is this gonna stumble across a point anytime soon?" Willow blushed, her cheeks flaming red to match her hair. 

The two of them were sitting in the living area, or more accurately Willow was sitting, Spike was pacing. She looked tiny sitting on the sofa by herself; her body seemed to curl inward, making her appear far younger than her years. And as Spike watched her he could hardly equate her with the girl that had magicked him into a wall less than an hour ago. She didn't look in charge; she didn't look like the most powerful person in the building. She looked like a child waiting to be led, lost in the darkness. 

And in a way she was. She was fumbling along with no light to guide her, no books to inform her, no Buffy to give her courage, not even Giles to work along side of her. She was on her own, set apart from the others who looked up to her. Everywhere she turned there were faces and hands reaching out, asking her to lead them. Food had to be bought, the girls had to be watched, volumes had to be looked in to find the source of the newest evil, bills had to be paid, clothes washed, new slayers located and brought into train, everywhere she turned there were faces expecting so much of her, wanting a leader when she was nothing more than the girl who had stood silently in the back row all her life and was content to do so. Now she was thrusted into the spotlight and all along they silently pleaded for Buffy, they wanted her back, they wanted her better, they wanted her as their leader. They looked to Willow to make her well, make her whole, to take care of them, to lead them, and the strain was beginning to show.

When she had asked Spike where he wanted her to start his answer had been at the beginning. Of course that might not have been the case if he had realized she was gonna explain every misadventure the group had been on since he had left the fold. And he had the distinct feeling the witch was trying to talk around the point, lose him in a circle of mindless details and inconsequential knowledge. 

The actual reason was not nearly so malicious. The plain and simple truth of it was Willow didn't know what to leave in and what to leave out. Some of it she was sure Angel had filled him in on but maybe she was overlooking something-anything that could help Buffy. She, more than anyone, had begun to doubt her ability to lead, and even the most meaningless and simple tasks left her feeling hollow with failure, because on the horizon lurked another and another. Never ending armies of chores that must be done zapping her energy. She had the feeling that the answer to Buffy's sudden down turn was staring at her if only she could sit and think, really concentrate, but there was no time for that, there was too much that had to be done. So she laid it all out in front of Spike, hoping against hope that his keen eyes would detect a pattern hers had missed.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Spike beat her too it. "Look, I know you mean well but maybe we can skip all the good for you fairytale crap and get right down to it." He knelt in front of the witch, blue eyes probing her green ones, silently insisting on an answer. "What's wrong with her?"

She shivered slightly as if a draft of cold air had just blown through the deadly still room, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She worried her lip between her teeth, turning her head from his gaze to the upstairs room where a soft light was filtering from beneath the door, then finally meeting his eyes. "She's insane." There was no tremble in her voice, much to her surprise, the words were forbidden and there was a childish fear that some catastrophe would befall if they were spoken aloud. 

But the sky did not fall, nor the earth fail to turn. Spike's eyes merely darkened, but his face remained placid, his voice cool. "Gone off her nutter, has she?"

"Spike…" Whatever reaction Willow had braced herself for this was not it. He seemed unfazed, as if it were nothing more than a joke. 

"Sorry, luv." He smiled lightly. "Just this isn't exactly the first time she's gone to the dark side, is it? So come on, what did Goldilocks do this time that has your panties in such a bunch?" 

But Willow couldn't speak. She just stared at him in a horrified sort of manner, as if he had killed someone in front of her. And to her he might as well have. This was Buffy they were talking about and he was taking it all so… lightly. Didn't he see how tense things were; feel the electricity and unease crackling in the air? Didn't he care?

"What?" He looked about him as if searching for his blunder, but finding none or at least none he could detect he pressed on. "So what is it this time? Another big stick by some demon and thinks we're all figments of that overactive imagination of hers? Or is it just the usual craziness? Ya know the one where she thinks the world is out to get her and God forbid you disturb that chip on her shoulder?"

A feeling of such intense anger flooded Willow that for a moment she fought to surface in the ocean of dark energy trying to wash over her, control her. She was on her feet in an instant, barely missing stepping on Spike as he crouched below her, still looking vacantly at the spot she had occupied mere seconds before. Rigid lines formed, cutting deep into her skin, dissolving away an image of her being a lost child. She was dangerous, exuding anger, her whole body seething with hatred. Hatred at him for not caring, hatred at the others for placing this impossible burden on her small shoulders, and even for a moment at Buffy for not being here to help and guide her like a best friend should. "Get out." It was quiet, but crisp, a sharp order.

Spike finally rose, standing above her now, looking down on her, his feet planted on the floor. He didn't have to tell her 'no', his body language spoke volumes.

"I told you to go." She repeated, her eyes blackening for a heartbeat but he didn't budge. She could blow him to bits for all he cared; he wasn't going anywhere, especially without seeing Buffy.

"I'm not goin' anywhere." He straightened his spine, standing as tall as he could, chin held high, shoulders squared. The ink didn't return to Willow's eyes at his defiance, instead they seemed to grow large with imploring. And suddenly Spike realized his mistake. "This is bad, isn't it?"

Willow's stance softened, she sighed quietly, eyes ticking up to where Buffy rested. "In a word? Very."

*****

"Hey lil sis, where do you think you're going?" Faith's hand was stretched out over the backdoor out of the warehouse, her body language causal unlike her eyes.

"Out." Dawn glared, attempting to push her arm out of the way.

Faith ignored the vain attempt the littlest Summers was putting up in order to move her. "Out where? I mean, not that I don't mind a little teen rebellion and all but somehow I don't think B would appreciate it if she woke up from Will's magic coma to find out I let her sister play appetizer for some blood thirsty vamps, ya know what I'm sayin'?"

Dawn begrudgingly backed up a step; she knew she could never physically touch Faith but then again there were other ways to get what you wanted. "Since when do you care what Buffy thinks? I mean she never liked you anyway, not from the very moment she met you." She saw a lighting strike of hurt flash in Faith's eyes, quickly illuminating them and disappearing just as quickly. Bingo. "Do really think she gives a damn if you decide to play mother hen for awhile? Do you think she'd appreciate it?"

Faith smiled at that, a Cheshire grin crossing her face. "Ya got me there." She admitted. "But maybe this isn't all about B. See I'm thinking saving your little neck just might start making up for all the times I tried to snap it."

"Balance the scales?"

"Ya know it. So hows about I make you a little deal? You tell Auntie Faith what you're up to and I won't go rat you out to the rest of the little Scoobie Gang." 

Dawn grimaced but what option did she have? "I'm going to borrow Willow's car and go get some blood for Spike. Okay?" She glared at the rogue slayer.

"Borrow?" Faith quirked an eyebrow.

"Fine!" Dawn threw up her hand but quickly remembered to lower her voice. "I'm going to steal it. But just for a little bit. I'll bring it back. Plus it's not like I haven't done it before."

"I know you have." Faith looked on approvingly. "Which is why I also know Willow magicked up a wicked spell on those keys so no one but her can find them."

"Damnit!" Dawn swore. "I forgot about that." She sighed heavily, pulling her jacket tighter around her slim body. "I guess I hoof it. I hate Cleveland winters." She was surprised when Faith stepped aside and let her pass but didn't question it.

"You could do that…" Faith mused, her voice halting Dawn in her tracks. "Or I could just teach you how to hotwire it?"

Dawn spun around, a disbelieving look ablaze on her young face. "You would do that?"

"About time you learned." Faith grabbed a nearby denim jacket, one that belonged to Buffy and threw it on. "So ya comin' or would you rather walk?"

Dawn broke out into a grin and followed Faith; just as they closed the aluminum door behind them a question rose in Dawn's mind. "Don't you think we should tell someone where we're going? Otherwise they might miss us?"

"Isn't that the whole point?" Faith stopped in front of a creamy Saturn parked about a block down on the street, whipping out a Swiss Army knife she instructed Dawn. "Watch and learn, princess."

*****

Willow spoke until her voice gave out and tears ran from her eyes like rivers overflowing its banks. She told Spike as much as she could bear, and some that she couldn't. She used words like self-mutilation, suicide attempts, Cyclothymic disorder, and a host of other phrases, which boiled down to Buffy was in trouble. She was having episodes, some of depression, some of mania, some where she would hurt herself, some where she would sit and have hour long screaming fests at the walls, or her lamp, and then sometimes she was fine. If she remembered these episodes Willow didn't know and never pressed her, it was so painful to watch she could imagine what it would be like to be living it. When she finally stopped, tears soaking Spike's shirt, it was hard to tell who was holding who together, both looked lost, shattered sitting there on that old stained sofa.

"It's okay, pet." Spike patted Willow's back as she tried to explain something about Faith and Buffy but her words were so mangled that was about all he got. For how long they sat there Spike didn't know, but it felt like an eternity, every word seemed to cut deeper into him till he was convince he was just gonna die right there, but he couldn't. She needed him. And it seemed to him that Buffy wasn't the only one who needed a hand, Willow looked ready to crack, Xander-well he was always a poof, but the lil bit- she had already been through so much, how much more could they keep piling on before she lost it?

Willow sat up, wiping her eyes, fingers of a blush rising on her neck and cheeks. She had just cried on Spike's shoulder, the thought was embarrassing to say the least. Even when Buffy had died she would have impaled herself before showing that sort of emotion in front of him. There was part of her that she guessed would never grow out of being timid Willow, the girl at school who everyone ignored, it didn't seem to matter how many demons she fought or baddies she squished, that Willow was still lurking beneath the surface. She noticed Spike's eyes rise to the room where Buffy lay. "Do-do you want to go see her?" She asked softly, feeling a bit forward.

She didn't need to ask twice.

__

TBC


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Spike held back, a bit shy, as they ascended the metal staircase that led to where Buffy was resting. His hands were buried deep within his jacket clutching hopelessly to the soft leather, trying to brace himself for all the horrors Willow had forewarned him lay inside.

Buffy's room had originally been the manager's office, divided into three smaller segments with cubical walls in dull grays and navy blues. It held a large window that looked out on the factory, giving the boss a bird's eye view of his workers productivity, but since taking over residence the Scoobies had new blinds installed and kept them tightly shut at all times. Originally the idea was to use this space as a sick room, not belonging to one person in particular but rather the group at large. When Buffy became the soul occupant was hard to say, but now it was simply her room, no question about it.

Spike could smell her scent and he inhaled deeply as Willow paused, perched on the top step and rapped softly on the door. There was a muffled reply of "come in" and Willow swung open the door, sparing a small smile for the blonde vamp.

The room was warm, hot air seeming to choke on entry. A small brass lamp was glowing on a stack of milk crates, which served as both a bookcase and an end table. Xander rose from the worn lounger where he had been quietly reading to Buffy. He hastily shoved the copy of _Great Expectations _behind him.

"Hey." Willow smiled at her best friend, a hint of warning in her green eyes to play nice. "How's she doing?"

Spike missed Xander's reply as he felt a wave of bile rise up in his throat and fought to push it down. The sour taste filled his mouth as he stared at the figure on the small twin bed. Tucked behind a small divider of navy blue lay Buffy. Standing in the doorway and you would never see anything but the ratty brown chair, a small dresser bare of all knickknacks, and the milk cartons which seemed to be the only running theme throughout the building. It was only when you entered, lungs filling with stifling warm air that you could see this waif of a girl sleeping.

Spike felt a hand reach out over his chest to stop him, probably Xander the back of his mind registered but he pushed forward, coming to stand over her. This wasn't Buffy, it couldn't be. The once glistening strands of golden blonde hair, spilled around her dull and lifeless. She was tucked in with heavy comforters up to her shoulders, but by the way her collarbones jutted through her skin, she was obviously not eating. Dark circles marred her face, skin so porcelain white she looked like a china doll, her lips cracked and dry despite the pitcher of water perched with a glass beside the bed. Spike had seen Buffy hurt before, seen her crazy, seen her come out of a fight battered and bloody but he had never seen her look so beaten before.

There was no spark of life in her at all, her chest seemed frozen, not rising with each breathe. "Is she-? I mean she's still-?"

Willow stepped beside him. "It's just a sleeping drought. It lasts for 12 hours. Lets her get her rest." She explained. "Kind of makes her look..."

"Dead?" Xander piped up, from behind the redhead.

"Well I was gonna go with pale, but I guess yours works too-"Willow scrunched up her face. "In a blunt sort of way."

It was then that Spike realized why the room was so damn warm. Buffy began shivering uncontrollably, her body twitching in an effort to warm itself despite the heap of blankets that lay across her. Xander was at her side in an instant, grabbing a pan from the hot plate and dipping a damp rag in it and wiping off Buffy's face with the warm water. He rubbed his hands together vigorously, and then placed the palm of one flush against her forehead, his thumb trailing soothingly across her brow. After a moment she stopped shivering and reverted to her limp state.

Xander rose, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "It's been getting worse. I would raise the heat some more but I'm worried that she will end up a crispy piece of Buffy bacon if it gets much hotter. So I thought I'd just try to keep her warm..." He shook his head sadly, looking to Willow, as Spike desperately wished he had some warmth to bestow upon his love.

"You should have come and got me." Willow scolded as she stepped outside the divider, rummaging around for something.

"Well, I would've but you were with Captain Peroxide here. I didn't feel like interrupting that wonderful little Hell." Xander shot back.

Willow came out, checking her watch as she did so, a small vile clutched in her other hand. "Doesn't matter. She can't have another dose for at least 30 minutes."

"Another?" Xander looked at her skeptically and then noticed the tiny green glass bottle in her small hand. "You gave her _that_?! What are you nuts? Don't you even remember how dangerous that stuff is?"

"I remember." Replied Willow huffily. "But this isn't like last time. And besides it just for one night. She needs to sleep."

"Last time I checked she _was_ sleeping." Xander retorted, swelling up in anger. He felt like he was losing his two best friends, Buffy to her own mind, and Willow to her desire to bring back the old Buffy at all costs. "She doesn't need that let's-make-me-go-all-crazy potion! That's something I think she can live without."

"It won't make her crazy!" The redhead insisted, clutching the bottle to her chest protectively. "It's to help. So she won't have all those horrible dreams and things."

"You mean so you won't have to listen to her?" Willow faltered at that, eyes wide with injury and disbelief that Xander could suggest such a thing. Her mouth hung open, she willed her brain to make words but they would not come. "Truth hurts doesn't it?" Xander asked quietly, voice like steel, eyes like ice.

"What's this then?" Spike piped up, tearing his gaze away from Buffy's sunken face to the warring friends.

"This is Xander being a stupid idiot about things he doesn't understand!"

"Well I'm pretty sure this is about Willow trying to take the easy way out even if it means pushing Buffy into a nice padded cell!" He rebutted. "I mean haven't you learned what happens every time you try to take a short cut?"

"Short cut! Me? Look whose talking Mr. I-do-nothing-around-here-but-eat!"

"Excuse me? I go to work everyday unlike some of us..." He glared across the small heated space.

"Oh and what I do isn't work?" Willow asked incredulously. "All I do around here is work! Who make sure the bills get paid on time? Me. Who makes sure there is food in fridge and dinner and lunch? Me. Who is the one who is always cleaning and cooking and researching even when everyone else has gone to bed? Umm... hello? that would be me again! God Xander, how can you be so..." She flustered looking for a word. "Boorish!"

"Boorish?" Xander asked

"It mean's pigheaded."

Xander was about to dive headfirst into a rant about how he knew what it meant and that no one took him seriously except Spike interrupted, swiftly pulling the small green glass vial from Willow's grasp. "God! Can you children _try_ to concentrate for a moment? All you've been doing is squabbling since I got here. Can't you just bloody shut up for a bleeding moment! No wonder she's off her bird, you two's squawking could drive anyone into the bleeding nuthouse! Now," He regained his composure, holding the vial closer to the light. "Someone want to tell me what this is and why you all are carrying on about it?"

Willow and Xander exchanged a long glance then with a heavy sigh, Willow spoke, taking the platform. "It's a potion. It allows her to have a dreamless sleep." Xander coughed, causing the red head to send him a pointed glare before explaining. "It allows her to have a dreamless sleep by obstructing her subconscious. It blocks fears and worries from being presented in the normal way, while she's sleeping."

"And?" Xander prompted but Willow didn't continue. Her eyes floated to the floor, suddenly finding her shoes fascinating. "Well since Wills doesn't want to mention it let me fill you in on some of the pleasant little side effects this magical little cure has been known to cause, namely a bunch of crazy people. See when you lock up all that stuff it pretty much puts you on the road to Locoville."

"Not if it is given in the right dose!" The witch insisted. "Which is why with the clock and the whole time thing. Space it out and only for tonight so it won't build up in her system. And she gets to sleep..." Her pleading eyes landed on Spike shifting the power to him. Another time and the vampire might have found it odd how one person who couldn't stand him and another who could magic him into little bits was looking to him to make the call. But right now all he could think about was Buffy. If he was hoping for time to think it over, mentally balance the pros and cons, to ask more questions, his time was cut drastically short as the sounds of heavy footsteps sprinted up the stairs and threw open the door without knocking.

Kennedy held on to the doorframe, breathless. "They're missing. I looked everywhere." She panted.

"Who?" Willow asked as she assisted her girlfriend into the lounger.

"Faith and Dawn." She managed. "The car is missing too."

"Damn." Xander swore. "So what do we think?" He looked to Willow.

"I dunno. Do you think they might have just gone out to get something together?" She asked, turning to her lover.

"Faith would have said something." Kennedy insisted though the doubtful gazes from the others told her they didn't share her opinion. "I think Dawn took off again. I didn't see her anywhere after Spike's-" She noticed the blonde vamp standing in the room. "Anywhere after." She repeated.

"Seems to be the Dawnster's M.O." Xander nodded. "And my guess is Faith went out after her?"

A fretful look crossed Willow's face. "This isn't good. Faith isn't up to her usual strength, between Buffy and the spell. She may not even realize it."

"So they are both in danger." Xander concluded. "So where do we start looking?"

"You take the Flats. And I'll take the East Side. Dawn would probably want to blow off some steam. I'm thinking clubs, pool halls, anywhere she could get into." She helped Kennedy to her feet. "You think you can manage the troops here by yourself. I'm gonna get Vi and Rona see if they can cover the lakefront. You can be home base, just keep the girls calm and inside. I think they have had enough excitement for one day." She sent a sad look to Spike, who was standing apart from the group, his hands worked tightly around the small bottle.

"Keep 'em in out of trouble. Roger." Kennedy nodded.

"Wait." Called Xander as they started to file out the door. "Who is gonna sit with Buffy? It's not good for her to be alone for too long and who knows how long this will take?"

"I will." Spike spoke up, his voice a bit shy.

Xander opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it, reading the looks radiating off of Kennedy and Willow. Time was of the essence here. Faith and Dawn were out there, and with Faith only up to half of her usual strength and Dawn without any it could be trouble. He didn't want to leave Buffy, every fiber of his being told him to stay, watch over her, but they were out there. Seeing the war raging in his eyes Kennedy piped up helpfully. "I'll be here. I'll check in and make sure she's okay. If things get worse I'll phone."

With a last accusatory glance at Willow, Xander trudged down the stairs, his thoughts evident, that she had brought this on them. Kennedy followed him, talking game plan and suiting him up with weapons. But Willow hung back. "She'll need that in about 20 minutes. " Her eyes flickered down the green glass bottle he was holding. "Just pour it in her mouth and make sure she swallows it. Other than that, keep her comfortable, and sometimes it helps if you read to her, a stack of her favorite books are over there." She gestured at a small milk carton shelf in the corner. "She likes the romances. But ya know not the smutty kind cuz Buffy's not like that."

She shook off her previous mistake, all business. "If you have any problems Kennedy should know what to do." She inhaled deeply, going over to Buffy and brushing her hand gently over her forehead. Then she turned, pausing just outside the door, not turning around. "Don't worry. We'll bring them home. We always do." And with that she was gone leaving the Slayer alone in Spike's care.

"Oh Willow is so gonna kill you!" The teen chanted with a hint of joy that Faith and not her would be on the chopping block.

"I'm not takin' the fall for this. The car got stolen. Not my fault." Faith shook her head. "If anything it's your fault." She wheeled on the teen. "I mean you're the one who invited Spike in the first place."

"What? Me?" Dawn jogged after Faith who was hugging Buffy's denim jacket closer to her as she walked down the narrow sidewalk. "I so did not! It was Willow who called and that's how he found out. I didn't even know he could leave LA."

"I bet you didn't." Faith muttered as she stopped leaning against a Bus Stop sign.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"What it means, brat, is that someone had to roll out the welcome mat so Spike could even enter. I bet if you knew he could leave LA you might have mentioned that you had invited him, that's all."

Dawn crossed her arms, lifting her head as she tried to go for stern and unwavering. "I so did not." Faith rolled her eyes, fingers playing with the cool metal of the sign. "I mean..." The younger Summers faltered for a second. "Well Buffy could have. When we were in LA."

"Sorry, wrong answer thanks for playing. Please, someone's got to teach you how to lie and who to lie to. I was there in LA. I saw B, 'member? She looked ready to spit nails. I seriously doubt she got down and cuddly in some closet with a spook and then invited him to hop on over next time." Faith yawned, stretched her arms over her head. "My guess is that you felt sorry for the poor guy after big sis chewed him out and offered him a place to crash if he was ever in the neighborhood. Hell, I don't blame you, might have done the same if I wasn't busy trying to keep B from either staking Angel or fucking his brains out and i _then /i _staking him."

"Yeah." Dawn shrugged, not bothering to fight it anymore. Faith was turning out to be a lot cooler than she ever thought possible. "It was kind of crazy. And what was with that one guy trying to get Xander to go into gay demon porn?"

"Lorne? He means well but sometimes he goes a little overboard with the star search shit. Hey here comes our ride." She motioned with a nod of her head to the bus pulling up.

"Umm... Faith? It's going the other direction. See?" She said pointing. "It says Waterfront and Flats."

"And your point is? Come on," She called as she went to board. "Loosen up, we might as well have some fun before Will puts the whammy on us. Besides I'm there to protect you from all the things that go bump in the night. I say we might as well enjoy the freedom."

Dawn grabbed the handle, taking a deep breath, and stepped aboard. "Might as well..."

Spike sat down on the lounger as he heard the heavy doors close with a loud bang, his head resting in his hands. It had been a long day, far too long, and his head was pounding. He didn't want to think, he didn't want to feel, it was too much, too many emotions and thoughts pouring down on him, drowning him. They swirled around him, passing images, never close enough to really turn over, always being forced away as another hurtled towards him. Buffy was sick, Dawn was missing, he had some potion to give to Buffy which he couldn't tell would do more harm than good. It was all too much.

In LA he had felt like a prisoner, held by his own cage, his choices molding the bars and fitting them tight till he couldn't leave. After the confrontation with Buffy, when she marched into Wolfram and Hart, and found him not so dead, he vowed he wouldn't face her again until he could tell her the whole truth. A searing pain shot up through his stomach as he replayed that horrible day, her hurt eyes flashing, the angry words. No, he had decided that the next time he saw Buffy he would be a man again, there would be no secret of the Shansu prophecy over his head. Yet here he was.

He cursed himself, but for staying away so long or coming at all he didn't know. It was all so jumbled, fractured pieces that refused to hold still long enough for him to mend what was broken. Buffy he could deal with, he could take care of her and he was good at that, for over a century he had taken care of Dru. But Drusilla had always been like that, sure some days were...well, less crazy than others but even at her weakest she had never looked as beaten as Buffy did now.

A lump rose in his throat as his eyes drifted to his once golden goddess. Dru had been driven insane long before he stepped into the picture but Buffy had been fine. Sure sometimes she would walk the line straddling light and dark, or blame a bloke for what couldn't be helped but she had been fine. And he couldn't help but feeling that if he had been there, if he had come as soon as that magical package arrived, that maybe all of this could have been prevented. Hell, she could be breaking his heart with that smile of hers right now.

He tried to remain calm, detached, to block the cyclone of emotion threatening to rip his heart apart and scatter it. But the tears came anyway, unbidden, and unwelcome. With a firm hand he wiped furiously at them. Spike was above this. He was the big bad. Buffy needed him. He clung to that though gathering his wits about him and turning over in his mind the witch's instructions. Read to her, keep her comfortable, and the potion. He could do that.

His eyes scanned the books, settling on _Little Women. _Red had said Buffy liked the romantic stuff and he figured that it would fit the bill, either that or bore him to tears. He stood, going over to Buffy, he pulled the blankets up more tightly around her, and then settled himself on top of them, careful to give her as much space as the tiny bed allowed. He had only gotten as far as the title when a small digital clock caught his eye. He was supposed to give Buffy the potion in about a minute, that was what Willow had said to do, and she would know, he reasoned. But there was a nagging in the back of his head that the boy was right on this one, messing with someone's subconscious usually yielded some pretty nasty results. His blues eyes once again took in Buffy's peacefully resting form. It was his call and he knew it. But he didn't get up or pull the small vial from his pocket. Instead he began reading aloud. "Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug..."


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Xander shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the cold wind pressing harshly against the bits of exposed skin. "Getting anything over there?" He questioned Willow, who was standing next to him, palms up, each emitting a small ball of green light. Wherever she was she wasn't here with him. "I guess not." He muttered. This was getting just plain stupid. Here he was freezing his ass off while Willow was doing whatever she was doing to locate the car. Why he had to come along, he couldn't say. Willow surely hadn't told him anything when she said she needed him with her. So far he was beginning to think his job was to block some of the cold air.

He was seriously contemplating taking off to look for Dawn on his own when the balls of energy floating on Willow's palms turned red, blood swirling within them. With a sudden crackle of energy they crashed together the force knocking Willow off her feet, sending her flying back five feet, as they streamed out of sight leaving a small red trail in their mist.

"Whoa." Xander was at his best friend's side in an instant. The harsh ground had rendered her momentarily unconscious. He helped lift her head as her eyes fluttered open.

"Did it work?" The words came out meekly, mewings from a kitten.

"Well if it was supposed to go crash boom and then take off? A big ol' yes." He smiled, stretching out a sturdy arm, helping her to her feet.

"Oh good. It worked then." She took a few woozy steps, nearly collapsing, as her knight rushed to prevent her from hitting the ground.

"Were the jello knees an expected part of it or just a pleasant surprise?" He questioned as he looped one of her arms over his shoulder, helping her to walk, supporting her.

"Kinda knew it was coming." Willow admitted, leaning on him as they hobbled down the cracked sidewalk, following the quickly fading trail. "Gotta say it really didn't help soften the punch it packed."

"Next time you might want to give a fellow some warning. I could have caught you, or at least acted as a pillow when we both hit the pavement."

Willow smiled up at him, noticing the mild indignation on his face. "Why did you think I asked you to come? I knew you would be there to pick me up when I fell." Her green eyes locked on to his brown, time rushing backwards, years dissolving, till they were just two friends, before darkness had treaded onto their lives. Back to when they were just Willow and Xander, best friends forever. "You always are. Of course-" She added breaking the magical moment. "If I had known about that pillow offer-" Her voice trailed off as they marched on through the bitter cold night, wounded soldiers returning to war.

"This is so cool!" Dawn yelled over the blaring music, a beer in her hand.

"What?" Faith screamed back, her body a slave to the music. Dawn pulled her off the dance floor, to a quieter area near the bar.

"I was saying this is so cool! Buffy never lets me drink."

"I don't mind if you drink." Faith snatched the beer from Dawn's hand and downed half of it in one gulp. "But I do mind if B finds out so try to keep your head on tonight. I don't want to explain to big sis why you have your head in a toilet."

"You mean if I still have a head when Willow is done with me." Dawn sighed, taking a small sip of her drink. Faith was fast becoming the coolest person she knew. The only one who saw her, not Buffy's little sister, not Dawnie, not the key, but her.

Faith let her get her hands dirty, encouraged mistakes. How else was she gonna learn? Faith had a lifetime of mistakes, lessons that taught her more than all the books in the world. It wasn't knowledge you could pass on, that's what parents did, tried to keep you from repeating their mistakes, but the lesson was never the same, it never hit home. Let them make there own mistakes; just catch them when they fell and who knew? Maybe they would surprise you. Maybe they would fly. Faith gave Dawn her wings back after a lifetime of them being clipped.

The club was just another sky to soar in. Faith had got her in with a smile, a wink, and a twenty passed to the bouncer. Two fine looking women, who was he to deny them access? When they had saddled up to the bar Faith had ordered a beer and Dawn had followed her lead. Faith never said a thing about it, merely quirked her eyebrow and then smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way.

"It'll be mine on the chopping block not yours." Faith comforted her; though she was looking elsewhere, at a group of guys who kept checking them out, she nodded her head in greeting. They approached, four, good-looking, straight from an Abercrombie catalog. Dawn's stomach knotted, body tensing, every cell humming.

She forced a smile, trying to reign in her nerves. "Hey." Faith pushed her out of the nest as she started chatting up one of the guys. Fly or fall. "So where are you guys from?" Dawn asked with a small smile.

"Such a bloody waste of money." Spike mumbled to himself between reading aloud to Buffy who slept peacefully beside him. "Stupid bloody limes. And that little bit cares about nothing but her nose." He scanned the next page, becoming fully engrossed in the world painted by Louisa May Alcott. His favorite thus far had been timid Beth, which he drew in his mind to be a young Dawn. "And yep there you go. 'No sooner had the guest paid the usual stale compliments and bowed himself out, than Jenny, under pretense of asking an important question, informed Mr. Davis, the teacher, that Amy March had pickled limes in her desk.' How did I know it?" He questioned the slumbering blonde beside him. "She's breaking the rules. And not even doing a good sort at that."

A soft rapping on the door snapped him back to attention. He moved off the bed at lightening quick speed and deposited himself in the old lounger before clearing his voice and saying, "Come in."

She entered shyly, hesitantly, looking as if she was a child abandoned, awash in a sea of unfamiliarity despite this was now her home. Spike tilted his head slightly to the side as she entered, attempting to puzzle this intruder out. She had long red hair that curled up into tangles and waves, she had let it down tonight, forsaking her trademark ponytail. She wasn't beautiful, her green eyes were too large, her body too boyish, with no hips and no breasts to entice men. She wore a large flannel shirt that devoured her petite form, giving her the appearance of a young girl playing dress-up in her father's clothes. Yet for all of her childish appearance there was something about her that was dangerous, powerful.

"Let me guess? Another slayer right?" Spike sighed heavily. "So your little girly mates running a game. See who can be the big brave girl and see the new vamp. Well here I am, baby. Now run along, will ya?"

The teasing wasn't sharp, yet it made her flinch. Her body seemed to retreat inward amongst the fold of cloth. "No." She shook her head, a bit nervously but held her ground. "I came to check on Buffy. I thought you might have wanted a break and I didn't want her to be alone."

Spike smiled. She was a timid one all right, a fawn in a world of dangerous huntsmen. He felt sorry for the poor lamb; she wasn't going to make it. "Nice offer but I'm fine." He waited for her to go but if she heard the dismissive tone in his voice she ignored it. She stood over Buffy tucking the coverlets tighter around her. "Umm... So what's the good word? Find Nibblet yet?" She gave him a queer look to which he amended, "Dawn."

She shook her head mournfully. "No. But they are all out looking it shouldn't be long now."

She seemed to posses a confidence in the Scoobies, which he had never witnessed before. If they said it was going to be all right, she believed in them, she trusted in them. Which only secured the thought more firmly in Spike's mind that she wasn't going to be among their ranks for long. He felt a twinge of sorrow at her future passing but mostly he hoped Buffy wasn't attached to this one. She seemed like a girl one could easily get attached to. "So why aren't you out there? Or at least downstairs coordinating and stuff? Hanging with the other slayers?"

"They aren't helping." It was softly spoken but the force her words contained made the room seem to cool, Buffy shivered. Then it passed. And Spike was sure his mind was playing tricks on him, no way this tiny child could chill the room with her mere utterance. "The 'original army' is already out looking. Well except Kennedy. She is home base. Very important. But the 'new wave'? They just sit there and gossip. I don't like them."

"And you shouldn't if that's all those poncy buggers do." His indignation got a small smile from Amber, maybe the thought of a vamp so worked up over training habits of slayers just struck her as funny. Whatever the reason the mood seemed to lighten. "Why don't you run down stairs and give Will's gal a hand. Looks to me like she could use one, what with all those no accounts sittin' around braidin' hair and what have you."

"I guess I better. I just came to check on Buffy in the first place. It was a really bad day for her."

"So I've heard."

Amber smiled sadly at the remark. She moved to the door, her hand wrapping around the knob before she paused. She cocked her head slightly, as if listening to music no one could hear but her. When she turned back around Spike saw her green eyes flashing with worry as they searched the empty ceiling. He wanted to ask her what she was looking for but he never got the chance. "Take care of her okay?" She requested politely before she disappeared down the stairs much like Alice in the rabbit hole.

Spike retook up residence on the bed occupied by Buffy. "Strange bird." He muttered to himself before picking up the book once more, intent on seeing what happened now that Amy had been caught with the limes.

The red trail had long since faded and yet Xander could tell they were getting closer. There was a pull, and energy directing him through the cold night. Where it would lead he didn't know, but he doubted he could resist the pull even if it led him to the mouth of Hell itself, which in Cleveland happened to be under a giant sculpture that looked like a stamp with the word 'FREE' carved into. Weird place, Cleveland was.

The sound of slapping water became louder as they walked. Willow seemed to grow stronger the closer they got. They moved without speaking, hypnotized, the goal was clear, the path was set. Over a small chain-link fence with no trouble, nothing could stand in their way.

The magic was denser, a warm wetness trickling down their backs, urging them forward. Their pace increased, following the music of the crashing water, keeping time with it. Faster, quicker, the slippery dock posed no threat, they didn't even notice, they saw nothing; just felt the pull, like the moon of the tides. They were puppets in a much stronger game, their marionette strings tied to their hearts.

There it was. A swirling red mist, it smelled of blood, of the end of innocence, and of power. And it called them. Willow stopped at the edge, her eyes filling with tears, as if she finally saw where she stood. But Xander didn't; he continued to walk until he fell with a sickening crash into the freezing waters of Lake Erie.


	7. Chapter Six

3

Chapter Six 

The hospital smelled of disinfectant and worry sat heavily in the air, making it thick and tense. Too cold and detached for all the lives in its care, not just those who relied upon nurses and doctors but all those anxious faces that filled the waiting room, praying, hoping, waiting for someone to tell them the fate of their loved ones. Willow shivered, hating to count herself amongst them.

You did hospital time in the Scooby Gang. It came with the territory. She just wasn't used to it being her fault and in some way it was. It was her spell, the draw nearly overwhelmed her; she should have been anchoring Xander. She didn't think. Now all she had was time to think. The fall was bad, at least fifteen feet straight into the frozen lake. She wasn't sure how the police arrived, or the ambulance, she certainly didn't think to call them. She was in too much shock to think, to move. She didn't realize how her voice carried, how the screams woke the neighbors.

The car was in the lake; the one Dawn and Faith were in. A wave of nausea lurched in her stomach. She had managed to tell the disbelieving police officer that a car had been driven in. He eyed her suspiciously, curbing his tongue and asked her no questions of drug use though he highly suspected it. Sensing his hesitation she went right for the magic, a simple command spell. He promised to call the coast guard and tell her as soon as he knew anything. She had wanted to wait to make sure the job was being done right, to maybe 'help' them along some but the ambulance driver asked if she was coming. The answer was simple.

Now she sat alone, surrounded by people, fingers playing with the smooth honey oak arms of the sea green chair on which she perched. She should be doing something, anything. Her brain refused to work. Things needed to be done. Faith and Dawn. The Car. The Lake. Xander. Rona and Vi were out on the East Side. Someone would need to tell them. Spike was in town. Buffy. Too many responsibilities clawing at her. Always after her with their razor sharp teeth, gnashing, when she subdued one there was another and another, armies sent upon her.

And her head was in her hands, her fingers tugging at her red locks. She told herself to get it together, to think. Concentrate on what she could do now, what needed to be done first. She thought of the hospital with its triage system, treat the most critical first, then the rest. Faith and Dawn, they were top priority. She couldn't do much for them sitting in the hospital but refused to leave until she knew Xander was going to be all right. Which left only one option. She stood up, walking away from her seat that was quickly snatched up and into the bitter night air. Pulling her cell phone out of her purse she sighed, time to call in some recruits.

"Knock, Knock." Kennedy announced softly as she pushed her way into the room. The warmth and the soft body beside him had allowed Spike to drift off to sleep. Kennedy smiled to herself as she looked at the vampire resting, _Little Women_ propped up on his chest. She wished she had a camera if nothing else for blackmail. She realized he must be exhausted after having all this stuff dumped at his feet. She would like to do nothing more than let him sleep but she had said she would check in.

With a sigh she walked back out, this time she rapped loudly on the door, she knew Spike had a soul now but she couldn't quite guarantee her safety if Spike knew that she saw him so soft and cuddly. She waited to enter until she heard a groggy "Come in."

"Hey." She couldn't resist a grin, noting how Spike was now settled into the lounge chair. "Just checking in. Making sure everything is okay."

"Fine, fine." Spike insisted. He paused a moment, his eyes taking in Buffy's resting form. "Is she supposed to be so cold?"

"Umm yeah..." Kennedy walked over towards the bed pulling the covers up around Buffy's all too slender form. "It's this sleeping potion thing that Willow makes. It sort of slows down her circulation. We just try to keep her warm...which is why it feels like a sauna in here."

"It is a bit warm." Spike admitted.

"Ya think?" Kennedy replied with a smile. "Anyway she should be out till late tomorrow morning and then comes the fun hangover part where she goes around biting everyone's heads off."

"Thanks for the warning, luv"

"Anyway, I wanted to see how you were doing?" Spike raised an eyebrow. "Not with the stuff." She corrected, as much as she liked Spike she didn't want to get into everything, not tonight when there was so much more to worry about. "But like do you need something to drink? We had Pepsi. I can't say for sure that it's still there but I can check."

"Nah. I'm fine. Feeling a bit peckish but I can wait."

"Oh blood... yeah we don't have any around here. But as soon as they find Faith and Dawn I'll make sure to get you some. Or if you are feeling really hungry I know of a few girls who were giving me lip today during training..."

Spike returned the grin. "Thanks for the offer, pet. Somehow I don't think the witch would be glad if I started nibbling on the girl scouts."

"Don't be so sure." Kennedy said, hand on the doorknob. "Lisa isn't winning any popularity contests."

"I'll keep that in mind." Spike promised as Kennedy closed the door behind her and disappeared down the stairs.

He sighed, examining the small room. It was so bare, so plain, like a hotel, no personal touches to be found, no photos, no nothing. Not one thing that spoke of the Buffy he knew, and he couldn't help but question as he gazed at the fragile girl next to him, if she would ever return.

"Umm...I'm not so sure about this." Dawn admitted as she watched Faith apply some dark red lipstick in the small bathroom of the club.

"You only do things you're sure about?" Faith asked smacking her lips and grinning at her reflection, before tucking the lipstick back into her black bag.

Dawn faltered as Faith turned to look at her. She worked so hard to be seen as an adult and now she actually had someone who didn't treat her like she was twelve but... "It just doesn't seem like the smartest thing to do. I mean Willow is so gotta be freaking about now and with Spike and all..."

"What about Spike?" The rogue slayer questioned, her eyes darkening. "Ya know something I don't? Think I need to join Xand in the keep watch over B patrol? Cuz from where I was sitting he seemed pretty soul happy but if you think it's an act ya gotta let me in."

"No, no. Nothing like that." Dawn insisted. "It's just..." She sighed. "It doesn't seem safe. Going back to their dorm. And Willow is gotta to be so worried and with everything..."

"First off, I'll deal with Will. You and I both know she's gonna blow a gasket either way and we are looking at a solid week of being leashed so I figure we might as well get some kicks in while we can. And..." She grinned placing a hand on Dawn's shoulder. "Just cause we are going to chill at their dorm doesn't mean you have to do anything ya don't wanna do."

"I dunno..." Dawn repeated. "It just doesn't feel safe."

"Girl, B really does have you wound too tight. You're with a slayer, one of the best I might add, known to kick a little ass. We're safe as houses. So you in or do I need to drop you back at Slayer Central? Cuz either way I'm going."

"Safe as houses." Dawn forced a smile.

"That's my girl." Faith commented as she led her back into the ear-splitting club to the group of anxiously awaiting guys.

Kennedy snatched up the cell phone vibrating against the workbench as she pulled an almost empty liter of Pepsi from the cupboard. She noticed 'Willow' across the display, hit a quick button and brought it to her ear. "Have you found them?" Kennedy could make out a muffled sob in response. "Willow? What is it?"

"Xander's in the hospital. The car's in the lake." Willow managed through her tears. It was all too much. She needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to take over, help carry her burdens for awhile. Kennedy was that someone. She had intended to be strong, to just tell her what had happened, no emotion, just facts, but once Willow heard her voice the strong plan fell apart.

"Where are you?" Kennedy asked, voice strong.

"Fairview Hospital. Why?"

"I'm coming to help you." She stated simply in a tone that would have left no debate in the SIT's minds.

However Willow wasn't a slayer in training. "You can't. The girls and Buffy."

"They'll be fine." Kennedy asserted. "Don't bother arguing. I'm on my way." She quickly hung up the cell phone, cutting of Willow's protests. Her lover needed her; it was as simple as that.

She walked out of the kitchen into the living area and hoisted open the trunk that served as a makeshift coffee table. It housed the simpler weapons, the dangerous stuff was kept in Buffy's room and thus out of the SIT's hands. She grabbed two stakes, a vial of holy water, and a rose quartz. The last one being for Willow, something small to make her feel better, she had remembered Dawn telling her once it had healing properties and she figured her girl might need them. Not her first choices as far as weapons went, but to retrieve her crossbow she would need to go upstairs... which reminded her of another problem.

"Hey Amber." She called softly to the girl sitting in the corner curled up, a book on her lap.

The red head looked up, stretching her arms out so her hands appeared from within the long green flannel sleeves of her oversized shirt. "Yeah?"

"I need a favor."


End file.
